Subversion and sublety, while normally not his speciality, were the best methods used in this approach to solving a problem. The dark figure, hidden in a nearby alleyway and completley ignored by the crowd, went about his work. Darth Necros, a sith knight, manipulated the force in many ways, and it would best serve him here if his presence was not detected. The crowd consisted of many aliens and humans, and had gathered here under the guidance of a very few to protest the Imperial occupation of the planet. When he was finished here, those few that had been seen as leaders would end up looking like the devil and the horsemen themselves, he thought with a wicked smile.

He remembered the meeting that had been held aboard the sith infiltrator earlier, and how when Master Jas had returned, that assignments had been handed out. They had been given a few Imperial troops to work with, and their task was to root out this rebel leadership and largely eliminate it. Torwards this end, the apprentices had been sent out to do some basic reconniter work, while the knights would follow them and disperse the crowds, using the dark side of the force to induce it's emotions to the point that they would betray the rebel leadership, letting the Masters go and root them out, although whether they would be destroyer or converted, Necros had no idea. He just had to focus on the present and the now.

Firstly, Necros located the leaders of the demonstration, and sought out their feelings. It indicated that if progress was not made soon, a riot would be formed from this crowd. This was good, just the thing that Necros had been looking for in their emotions. Now, it was time to completley screw up their plans.

This was not the first time that Necros had run across the rebels. Earlier, he had paid a visit to a small barracks type facility, camoflagued of course, and had convinced about a hundred of the weakest minds to follow him, dressing themselves up in full battle gears and taking their armaments with them. They now waited in the shadows and in the nearby buildings, for their chance to spring their attack. Necros sent out a subtle force message into their minds that they should proceed.

Suddenly, the loud air of chants and foot stomping was shattered by blaster fire and mortar rounds leaping into the air over the heads of the crowd. They turned suddenly, some of them trying to flee, but the rebel troops were on all sides, using the people as flesh shields as they attacked the goverment installation. Necros felt their fears and sudden doubts, and encouraged that by pouring a wave of dark side energy over them. He snared the doubt, the fear, the other emotions, and gave rise to them. Now, it was time.

He very carefully planted into their thoughts that the rebel leaders that had been with the crowd had betrayed them, had set them up to be unwilling sacrafices for their troops to conduct their attack. But he did not induce it as a thought coming to them from outside their vision, but rather, one coming partially from their heightened emotions, as if they had suddenly realized what had happened and only now understand the treachery that was about. The leaders themselves didn't understand what was happening, and Necros went to work on them as well.

Now, it was time for the saviors to arrive. The Imperial stormtroopers arrived in chariot speeders and debarked, surronding the rebels from all sides, the enemy troops between them and the crowd. The people in the crowd now thought that their deaths was inevitable, as the Imperials would surely ignore them and cut them down to go after the soldiers. Necros smiled slightly. Not only would the rebels be seen as traitors, but the Imperials as saviors. The troops fired stun blasts only and stun grenades, taking down soldiers and civilians alike, but without harming them significantly. On the other hand, the rebel soldiers that turned to confront the Imperials were anything but harmless. Several stormtroopers went down with smoking holes in their armour.

But the melee ended soon, with the enemy troops down and cuffed. Ambulances and firespeeders were now arriving to contain the disaster and to assit those that were injured, and the rebel leaders were trying to fit in with the recovering crowd as a last means of survival. But one of the people remember who the organizers had been, and soon the Impeirals had to take the leaders into custody, unless they should be lynched by the still angry mob. And so that's how it would go. The crowd had turned on it's loyalties and ratted out the organizers. And those people themselves would feel like they had been used, and would rat out their superiors. Necros sent a short message to Master Jas through the force, a mission accomplished, before fading into the shadows of the alleyway.

Recon watched the crowd as Vance had left to meet with their contact. This ‘peaceful’ demonstration would soon turn sour before sundown. The streets were starting to look very thin as more and more people came out for this protest. The eager sith were almost trigger happy to intervene and destroy the current government and bring about a new age; the age of the sith. This was a stepping stone for the order.

Suddenly something had come to the Sith Master’s attention… It was like a train rammed into him. Recon thought to himself “Impossible!” It was all unclear for him, and for once in his life he really began to thing he was losing his mind to old age. “Fucking mind playing tricks on Me.” said Recon under his breath.

However, this was of no concern at the moment and he would quickly deal with this problem once the current mission was completed.

By now people from all over the city were marching toward administration building. You couldn’t even see the ground underneath them. The front guards of the building looked with fear in their eyes. Picket signs, banners and slogans were all being shown and shouted now. “Freedom!” and “Democracy!” were being shouted throughout the crowd.

“Its time.” thought Recon.

Sending a message throughout the area to all the sith. Everyone knew this was the moment. The apprentices were eager to test their skills. Even the grey old man was eager. He hadn’t witnessed a massive bloodbath in so long! The stormtroopers were beginning their march to the city. They would capture the Governor and his staff. They wanted them alive.

Recon started to walk down from the building stairs. When he reached the bottom the crowd was so thick he could barely walk through. “Oh, this is fucking great.” He thought to himself. Using the force to control one of the guards he made him shoot into the crowd. “That should clear this place up.” He thought once more.

For a moment it didn’t seem the crowd knew what to do. “Morons!” he thought.

The stormtoopers arrived and started setting up around the rebels and the buildings. Recon started to walk toward them. The captain quickly recognized the sith and stood at attention.

“Do not kill the Governor or the first family! Bring them to me, unharmed!” yelled Recon Klain.

“Yes, sir!” replied the commander.

Once the troopers were positioned the attack on the palace would begin.

The incident on the balcony was still bothering the sith lord. He would discover the meaning of this in due time…

Xara was walking down one of the streets and noticed people were running around the corner in front of her. All of them were protestors of some kind and they were throwing their signs down as they ran. Xara could hear something happening around the corner but couldn't make out what it was.

The number of running people was increasing like water overflowing from a glass. Xara stopped as the people started to bump into her. The amount of people increased and Xara was overwhelmed by the sheer number of them and was pushed to the ground.

"STOP IT! STOP IT DAMMIT!!!"

One of the people kicked Xara as they ran over her. The next few minutes put enough fear in the crowd that they couldn't chose which way to run.

Some fury deep within Xara released and she sprung from the ground grabbing her lightsaber. She began to swing at the people near her. Limbs fell to the ground as did some bodies. The people began screaming for their lives.

In a matter of minutes, it was over. Xara stood, partially covered in blood, looking at a group of horrified protestors as she clenched her humming lightsaber with both hands and was still gritting her teeth. She had no idea what had just happend.

Xara then fell to her knees dropping the lightsaber as she did so. Her left hand touched the ground as her right covered her head.

"Somebody please tell me what is happening to me!!!!"

Aboard the Borodino


Silence was the lord of the room. Two men, both aristocrats and among the powerful being sin the whole of the Empire, sat veiled in shadow. Decorum required that they dine together, accompanied by the ship's commander and a few members of each's staff. The brandy taken afterwards by the High Inquisitor and the Commandant of the Imperial Guard had been agreed to out of mutual curiosity. Neither man trusted the other but both shared a grudging respect for the other. Tension was thick and the quietness deafening.


For several long moments they sat, staring at each other over a white-cloth draped table. Reclined in a high-backed brown leather chair, the red-tuniced Viscount puffed on his hand-rolled cigarra. " What think you on this Rodia situation?"


Grand Admiral Desaria pursed his lips, swishing the brandy around in its crystal vessel. " It is our fault," came the simple reply. The eyes of the Inquisitor could not have gotten larger.


" Pardon, Desaria? I doubt I heard that correctly."


The Baron of Raenoria snorted. " You most certainly did, Inquisitor. Rodia was an Imperial world with all of the rights and privileges enjoyed therein. Our governor was doing well and there were no problems. Then he was recalled to Coruscant and some bureaucrat hoping to save on the budget decided that the natives could run things as efficiently. A puppet state was declared under the leadership of some popular family here. And then what? They seized power and began to embezzle and torture the subjects we had laboriously made loyal. The next natural course is revolution."


" What if the recall was ordered by the Emperor himself?"


Desaria saw the malice in the only answer he could give; he wisely ignored the question. " The Imperial system of governance is in place for a reason, and has done well. By installing a governor not of the conquered system, he is totally neutral and has close to his heart no side or faction or group of the conquered people. He can be truly objective and through this objectivity show the people the justice that only the Empire can bring. We veered away from a proven system and now we have an insurrection to deal with. A costly lesson indeed, but one our complacency has demanded we re-learn."


The Viscount del Forza sighed. The Grand Admiral was as crafty as he had remembered. " And you think the Sith will solve it?"


The smile Desaria had nursed for a scant moment disappeared. A solemn tone entered his voice. " The Sith and the Empire are involved in a symbiotic relationship right now, feeding off the other. When one decides it no longer needs the counterpart to survive, a great struggle for dominance will ensue. And then, del Forza, will be the only time I will ever be thankful for the existence of you and your department!"


For the first time in recorded history, a Guardsmen and an Inquisitor shared a laugh.

Vance stood silently in a small room. The glow panels were dim, allowing for concealment in the shadows, while also stopping any prying eyes from seeing within from the windows around. The Sith Master had made his way to the arranged meeting point, having been stopped along the way by a Stormtrooper patrol; though the Imperials soon allowed him entry into one of the restricted areas, simply following Vance's statement as to his identity. The Sith were known to the Imperials on the planet, which meant that they could walk anywhere they pleased, once they announced themselves...

And while Vance wouldn't usually answer to a lowly soldier, it remained that some semblance of peace had to remain between the two factions; they were, after all, serving one another’s needs, and the relationship had been rewarding thus far.

As the bedroom door opened, the Sith Master shifted his gaze from the street outside to the doorway. Within stood a small Rodian, though middle-aged for the species, and the being was Vance's contact and future Governor, Quis’an.

"Master Sith? I apologize for my lateness," The little creature warbled, her Basic somewhat fractured though still understandable, looking about for the other human who should have already been present. Clearly she was prone to speaking her native tongue, which was expected of another being. "I told my escorts to remain at lower levels of the building, as you said."

"Good," Vance said, his voice soothing as he stepped toward the center of the room. "Enter, and close the door behind you. I am pleased that you were able to take the time to meet me, following such a sudden scheduling..."

Quis’an bowed, walking as she did so, until she came to a stop in front of the taller human. "No troubles, Master Sith. I am glad you seek to put this one into Governmental office... I will serve Master Sith proud, and will make do that Rodia is able to help your Order."

"Indeed," Vance replied, smiling faintly. "I trust that you have already started your campaign for office? Having members of your Governmental body to spread word within the mob will surely help the Sith in influencing them... after all, it remains that a thought, even if only dull to the mind, is far easier to manipulate than to create,"

"Yes, yes," Quis’an said, her elongated snout shifting in what Vance had learned was a Rodian equivalent of a smile. "I even created poster-vids, to betterment the appointment in Rodian minds. I hope this is satisfied?"

Vance grunted to himself, finding the creature's Basic to be a thin line between annoying and amusing. "Yes, I am sure your efforts can only help, though I hope you have only done the simplest of propaganda drives... we do not want to force the issue just yet, at least not until the situation has been altered to the Sith's benefit,"

Quis’an nodded, rubbing her long fingers together quickly, nervously.

"Good," The Sith Master said, looking back to the window of the room. "At this moment in time, the Sith are moving to implicate both aspects of this confrontation. What we hope is to eventually cancel each side out, leaving an open path for you, and your people, to take up the Governmental status of Rodia... I hope that you are prepared, as our window of opportunity will be limited, and we must prove to the Imperials that you are able to lead your people. Do you understand?"

"Absolute," Quis’an said, smiling in her peculiar manner. "It shall be proved, Master Sith, and you will have my planet at your request."

"We shall see," Vance said, moving beyond the Rodian, stepping toward the doorway. "Until you have done your part, we remain on the edge of success... do not fail me, Quis’an. Simply be ready for when both parties in this struggle fall."

Without another word, the Sith Master was gone, disappearing into the hallway beyond...

Mira had followed Recon Klain into the city, but she slipped out of sight as soon as they entered. Certain other Sith might want to make their presence known immediately, but that was not her way. Instead, she would stay hidden and observe, watching the proceedings until such time as her services were needed.

One being caught her attention specifically. A blue-skinned female of a species Mira had never before seen was wandering the streets, seemingly without purpose. Remaining hidden in the shadows, Mira followed her; not only was she curious about the nature of this creature, but the thing was heading towards the city center. A perfect cover for Mira to slip by unnoticed.

Before they reached the center, though, a crowd of people - mostly aliens - began streaming towards them. Mira, already close to the wall, managed to slip in a window, but her cover was not so lucky. The being went down under the rush. Mira felt a moment of pity for the poor creature, then shrugged it off. The thing had served its purpose; if it was dead, who really cared?

Then the creature rose in the midst of the crowd and swept out a lightsaber. Mira was taken aback. Was there a Jedi, here? She knew that the creature certainly wasn't a Sith, as she'd taken note of each of her companions on the ship. But she didn't remember the creature from the Jedi Temple, either.

Mira watched as the being, flowing with the Force, began hacking away at the beings that were rushing her. Definitely not a Jedi, she thought. No Jedi would kill so randomly. Or with so much anger. Perhaps she could raise herself in the eyes of the Sith by bringing this creature in as a recruit.

When the slaughter was over, Mira watched as the creature dropped to its knees and cried out, "Somebody please tell me what is happening to me!!!!" A perfect segue to Mira's entrance.

The Sith apprentice, for the first time in this city, strode from the shadows of the building. Kneeling by the confused creature, Mira said, "You are feeling the Force. More specifically, you are feeling the Dark Side of the Force." Extending her hand, she continued, "I'm Mira, an apprentice of the Sith. Come with me. I'll introduce you to those who can help you realize your true potential."

Xara was still very disorientated after what had just happened. As her mind began to clear, she noticed someone kneel down next to her.

"You are feeling the Force. More specifically, you are feeling the Dark Side of the Force."

Xara was very surprised at what she heard and many questions filled her mind. The Dark Side of the Force? Could it actually be?

Again the figure spoke.

"I'm Mira, an apprentice of the Sith. Come with me. I'll introduce you to those who can help you realize your true potential."

Xara took Mira's hand and stood up. Nobody has ever told her she had any potential to do anything and was already surprised at what was said.

"My name is Xara. Did you say there are people who can help me?"

Xara's decision was a quick one. Mira was the first person she met in a long time to offer any help to her.

"I will go with you."

Mira began to lead her away from the onlookers and Xara followed. Something deep inside Xara told her this was what she was meant to do.

Vance stalked toward the Governmental palace, his rage slowly boiling up within him, pushing at the surface in what could only result in an explosion of hatred and emotion. The Sith Master had laid the foundation for the plans in progress, yet he found himself constantly prickling with disdain toward those who would otherwise seek to question the Order's goings-on. It seemed that some just wished to have an immediate control, while others sought a lengthier approach to the new instatement of Government; but, in the end, it all came down to who simply pushed the final straw, and who administrated the final blow...

That final blow would be Vance's own.

The crowd parted for the Sith Master, as his anger began to flow out before him. Rodians, primarily the largest number of the mob, stumbled to allow the cloaked being passage; however, despite the obvious confrontment with the Sith, it remained that each being in the immediate area was having difficulty retaining the shadowed individual's presence within their memories.

But then, this was how Vance worked.

He didn't allow those around to remember him, unless it suited his purposes. And right now, the Sith Master did not wish to have his progress hindered in any way, shape or form - at least not now that mostly everything was in place, as best it could be, without prolonging the event further.

{Descartes,} Vance sent through the Force, his voice passing into the mental plane. {I am aware of your attempts to meet with the Rebel leadership... once you do, destroy them all. I do not want a single activist of their group left alive. Do you understand me? Use Apprentices as you see fit, but it is wholly your responsibility to kill that entity from the neck down.}

As he moved through the first half of the crowd, the Sith Master severed the connection and directed his thoughts toward another of the Sith Order.

{Recon,} Vance intoned, his eyes narrowed as his source of power began to sear around him. {You will ensure that our Rodian candidate is kept safe, and secure, while at the same time bringing her to the fore of this crowd... when I strike, I expect you, and our other brothers, to be sending out waves of manipulative thought toward promoting Quis’an to Rodian Governmental leadership. Descartes will be handling one side of the opposition, while I take care of the other...}

Reaching out, Vance physically pushed at a Rodian who hadn't moved from his path, infusing his touch with the Force. The other being was sent to the ground, the supporting arm of the being as it fell snapping under the impact with the ground. That creature, at least, would probably remember the Sith passing by...

As he reached the front gate of the Government building, Vance looked to the guards standing just beyond the durasteel border. As was expected, the main force protecting the corrupt individuals within the palace remained at the head of the crowd, though still behind their protective wall; which meant that the Sith Master would gain entry into the palace from one of the remaining three sides...

It didn't matter which; either option would be like the rest, save for the front that remained more highly populated by Government guard.

Even as Vance began stalking along the path that led to the side of the palace, he could feel the dark side filtering over the large mob behind. His Sith were doing as they were tasked, and the Sith Master had no doubt that Recon was leading the effort in full... the other man was reliable, after all.

Unlike some within the Order.

None-the-less, as long as those who were playing their parts continued to do so, then the Sith would soon have the plot devised into working order; after all, it remained that neither group in this confrontation would serve the Sith's purposes, as each group involved clearly had enough initiative to begin pursuing a new political agenda...

At least Quis’an, and her Governmental party, was already leashed and controlled.


Not Too Long Later...

The Sith Master walked purposefully down the hallway of the palace, his azure bladed lightsaber ignited in his right hand. Vance had gained access to the building through the right, making use of a simple window, before making a beeline directly to the security room; it hadn't taken a whole lot of effort to pull the lay out of the building from a weak minded individual, who had possibly been the janitor, allowing the Sith Master to navigate the area with ease.

He had silenced the recording holos, disabled the alarm system, and respectively killed the guards who had been oblivious to his arrival. Now it remained that Vance had to work his way through the building, taking care of the minimal forces being kept within the palace walls, before moving onward to his main objective: namely the corrupt officials who sat, observing, in their main conference hall.

As Vance rounded one of the corners of the passageway, he came face-to-face with a guard on patrol; initially the Rodian blinked it's large eyes, clearly surprised, before it reacted by raising it's rifle. However, also in that action, Vance's lightsaber slashed out, slicing cleanly through bone and flesh, causing the guard's head to fall to the ground, followed shortly after by it's limp corpse. The Sith Master merely stepped over the minor obstruction, before continuing his path around the parameter of the meeting hall that was occupied by the true targets.

It took Vance a further ten minutes to sweep the last corridors of the building, using the Force to focus in on any patrols or wayward individuals; he would not allow those within to alert those without, and it remained that following the last death of the final Guard, Vance was left with only the political party within their conference hall...

At the ornate doorway, the Sith Master eased the door open, stepping inside without a word. The first sense of emotion that came over him was surprise; as clearly the half a dozen Rodians within, each dressed in attire fit for their positions, had not been expecting anyone to enter the area, let alone a single human dressed in a cloak and hood, complete with a humming lightsaber.

One of the Rodians jumped to it's feet, pointing and proclaiming something in it's own language. Vance didn't have the patience, nor time, to bother translating the sounds from the elongated snout; so instead he promptly reached out with the Force, before grasping the invisible power around the creature's neck, and crushing. The Rodian's flesh suck inward, appearing as though an unseen hand was constricting it; but the effect soon ended as the creature spluttered, became limp, and fell to the ground as the Sith Master released his hold.

This, expectantly, caused the remainder of the corrupt officials to panic.

Each creature stood, hobbling around their seats in an attempt to flee; but as most of the species were of a standard height, as well as each seemingly moving in unison, the Sith Master simply flicked his wrist and sent his lightsaber spinning through the guidance of the Force. The weapon flew swiftly, crossing the area in the heartbeat that it took the Rodian's to begin turning about their chairs; and in one, fell motion, the lightsaber blade sliced in a circular arc to slash through each official in succession.

Vance held out his gloved hand, calling the weapon back to him, as it flew across the room and he grasped it tightly. The deed was done, the corrupt Government had been taken care of, and all that remained was the final show to the populace still protesting outside the palace...

The Sith Master walked to the Protectorate's severed head, reaching down.


Moments Later...

Through the main transparisteel window of the main leader's office came a crash, followed by a round object that flailed through the air to land on the clipped, well maintained pathway leading down to the front gates. The head, of the Protectorate, rolled with subtle help from the Force, right down until it reached the durasteel gate. There it remained, almost every set of eyes that could see staring, an object showing the finality of the struggle for another appointment of leadership for the peoples of Rodia.

{Now, Recon} Vance sent through the Force, the Sith Master standing at the broken window of the palaces main office. {Use the effect of such a crude act to instil both fear and submission into the crowd... and then Quis’an will take it from there, though I expect you to continue luring the Rodians into accepting what she has to say. I will join you shortly.}

As he turned away from the window, the Governmental Guard outside turning to fire at where the Sith Master had been, so too did the Imperial troopers begin engaging the Guard. It was soon over, once the Stormtroopers began their task of protecting the Rodian people from the Governmental Guard, and soon almost every portion of the once corrupt political group were dead.

Vance enjoyed the sense of success, relishing in the crowd's belief of Quis’an's words from the fore of the mob. She, along with the aid of the Sith, was clearly everything the Rodian populace wanted in a leader; she was intelligent, she listened, she acted, and she was for the people... it didn't matter, for the mob had gotten what they wanted, and it remained that Quis’an was simply an acceptable after thought to the immediate satisfaction through out the protesters.

The Sith Master came to a stop beside Recon, his eyes staring out over the crowd as they cheered and applauded Quis’an and her group. The small Rodian female was completing her task, this was for certain, but the Force ensured she was soon the only choice for any in the area.

"It appears to be well on the way to being done, Lord Klain," Vance said, glancing to the older man. "It should not be long, before the Government is replaced... I expect that, until then, it will remain up to Imperial forces to keep order and maintain justice. At which I must speak with our Imperial contact, and inform him of the completion of this task."

Looking back over the crowd, Vance smiled faintly. "Until I return, maintain a noticable Sith presence, to ensure the Imperials do not decide to suddenly take over, replacing Quis’an and her people with their own... it appears the Sith now have Rodia."

And it was true. It would be a good matter of days before anything final was put into place, but it now remained that the Sith's Governmental cantidates were primary on the Rodian people's minds, and it was all now a simple matter of signing over the political leadership...

In the forest, a decent distance from the capital city

The takeover of the goverment was all but complete, but there did remain a few loose ends to tie up. Most of the goverment officials of old that needed to be would be "disposed" of, but there are those that have a foreboding, a inkling of what is coming, and have taken advantage of the confusion within their ranks to make haste and have some chance of living their lives. His current quarry was of this category. He could feel their fear, fear of the unknown that was chasing them. He had already cut down one of their number, a aide, an intendant, that had been standing guard over their makeshift camp. His screams and death throes had been very brutal, and the remaining former officials had taken off in a flee and a panick.

But they would not escape. Shrugging his cloak off and letting it fall to the floor, he would let those officials that were somewhat brave enough to face their doom see his face at least. He unclipped his lightsaber, the Hel-Hemarde blade, and thumbed it to life, it's aura of power surronding the blazing red blade. He then took off at a sprint, catching up to the fattest and therefore slowest of the officials in a moment's notice. A single sweep of the blade cut three of them in half and wounded a fourth. Stopping over the fourth one, he straddled his man before plunging the blade down deep into his chest cavity, burning the life out of him in an instant.

There were too left. The second to the last one was a sprinter, but he didn't seem to be as afraid as the others. Wondering about this one, Necros extinguished his blade and then used the aide of the force to catch up to this person. The man was looking behind himself when the sith appeared in front of him, the poor official slamming headlong into the sith. That person rebounded, then smiled upon seeing how Necros was seemingly unarmed. Then the person pulled a simple holdout blaster from his arm and aimed it at the sith knight. Chuckling to himself, he demanded that the sith pull him to his feet as a sign that he would be a willing prisoner. Shrugging slightly, the sith knight extended his hand, the force, unseen to this doomed man, surging into it. The moment the sprinter grabbed ahold of his arm, he began jerking and writhing as the force lightning was unleashed into his system. A single moment more later, Necros let go of him, as his body hair burst into flames.

Leaving his latest victim smoldering, he felt himself starting to tire some from his exertions. Only one more victim to go. He then thought of an idea on how to deal with this last one, and he smiled. He had heard of some people, even species, such as the Anzati, practicing this, but he himself had never tried it. He became a bit more excited when he learned through the force that the victim was not only very afriad, full of positive dark side emotions, but it was also female. Clipping the lightsaber to his belt, he took off running into the forest, paralleling the path taken of the last official until he could get ahead of her.

He produced a force sound behind her, causing her to turn around. Like the last official, he took advantage to step in front of her, causing her to crash into him. She screamed, a long undulating wail of sheer terror, and he grabbed her by her hair, pulling sharply on it. She was young, and of the beautiful variety as well, one not yet quite corrupted by the strains of running an office. An intern, perhaps, but one who choose the wrong side to serve. The human tried to sink to her knees, but Necros kept her standing. First she tried to claw at him with her nails, then resorted to begging and whimpering as a means for him to spare her pitiful life.

He admired the female's ability to switch emotions so rapidly, which would make this all the more pleasing to him. Putting his second hand on her shoulder, he shifted the position of his first hand to where he could bend the head in one direction, and the shoulder in another, revealing her fine white neck. Salivating at this point, he plunges into it teeth first, penetrating her skin and her primary blood veins, filling his mouth with her blood's salty and rich taste. He could feel her struggling, moaning and gasping in pain as her life force left her bloody to flow into his, her emotions, her life. He feasted on them, using the dark side of the force to replenish his body of it's energy. He hadn't drained all of her blood when he was finished, casting her lifeless body to the forest floor below. He took a deep inhale before exhaling, exhuming a bloody mist from his mouth.

He looked down at her curled up and limp form. She was a very sexy woman, no doubt serving the many fatter officials in more ways than one. He suddenly worried about whether or not he had gotten a disease from some kind of her. He should check up on the private health records of the officials when he got back into town. Turning, he left the chaos behind him, retrieving his cloak on his way out of the camp area. He sent a subtle force pulse out into the surronding forest area, beckoning any predators to come have a free feast on his account. Smiling to himself, once again, as he did in the city proper, he faded into the shadows of the night.

Meeting


Perrin had allowed the men intercepting him to hurl their taunts and flaunt their physical strength (such as it was) until one tried to take a swing at him. Sidestepping the blow, he caught the man by the wrist and twisted bringing the assailant to his knees. The other men growled their disapproval so Perrin threw the man he was holding back and walked towards his friends.


His singular lack of fear put them off balance giving him enough time to request an audience with their leader. Still untrusting of him as he was a stranger, they led him to a series of twists and turns as they descended into an underworld of metallic pipes and duracrete tunnels, the underbelly of Rodia's industrial district.

He was introduced to a man with a silver eye. A major leader of the rebellious movement and a man who led by force of personality.

And what a delightfully brutal personality it was!

The Imperials bred such strong personalities that to bind them under a weak overlord was to castrate an otherwise perfect specimen of strength.

Why keep the weakling Imperials as overlords if we can instill our own specimens? Strength begets strength and if you can tame such a rancor and call it your own, let the galaxy recoil in it's display!

"I have been charged with ending the rebellion." Perrin answered to the group at large feeling a heightening of suspicion. "Empowered, actually to speak for the Empire."

Several weapons snapped up but the leader held his hand, halting the inevitable trigger pull. The audacity and the lack of fear captured his interest.

It was as if the man had thought, "Here was a man I could deal with."


Perrin almost laughed at the thought. How a mere human could pretend to think himself equal to the force-user was a conceit that seemed to spread among their kind.

Still, now was not the place or time to correct the rebel leader.

"Forget the Empire," he said grandly and leaned forward whispering. "What do you know of the Sith?"

The leader's eye widened as the name was a name of legends and of tales thousands of years old.

"The Empire has a phrase, 'survival of the fittest'."

He grinned, "I would like to show you how the strong survive..."

It was then that a thought spread into his mind like wildfire. His temple twitched in irritation.

Descartes, I am aware of your attempts to meet with the Rebel leadership... once you do, destroy them all. I do not want a single activist of their group left alive. Do you understand me? Use Apprentices as you see fit, but it is wholly your responsibility to kill that entity from the neck down.


"You wouldn't be much of a Sith if you were not aware.." he muttered to himself and then looked up at the expectant eye of the rebel leader.

"Where was I?" he asked, as he stood to remove the light fabric coat that he was wearing to reveal his saber. "Ahh.. yes. I would like to show you how the strong survive.."


The leader leaned forward in avid interest and Perrin unclipped his saber. To affect one's mind through the force required a weak mind. The leader was especially resistant and so Perrin needed to keep him distracted. The others? They were followers. Drones to the force of personality exerted by the leader.

Charisma the poets called it.

Such a waste, he thought as he activated the saber.




As he walked back to the ship, the reports were coming in and Perrin discerned that his companions had used the force to simply confuse the population into action.

When such powers wore off however...

Another Governor was put into place and the woman performed her marrionette act superbly. Classic Imperial trick!

And now we await the crackers to be thrown to us by our benevolent Imperial allies. We should have taken it!

Now, rather than starting with a strong servant to us, we rely on the force of Imperial law to bind us to this rotten world! And the task falls to us to reinforce that law with fear...


He knew some of his companions relished the fact of instilling fear in others, like a carrion eater instills a dread upon the lame animal it stalks.

If there are to be more of us than Bane's accursed two, then we should be of such a number and of such a caliber that nations tremble where we tread!

We should not be a Sith Order...

We should be a Sith Empire!

His thoughts burned dark as he absently tossed a silver ball in his right hand.